Misguided Ghosts
by Bellum Gerere
Summary: You will keep your interactions with humans minimal. You will rely only on yourself for guidance. And, most importantly," he said firmly, "you will not fall in love."
1. Prologue

**Misguided Ghosts**

**Prologue**

_"Bod was smiling, and everyone was smiling."_

Silas stood by the old chapel, and he waited.

It had been fourteen hours, twenty-seven minutes and nineteen seconds by his count, and he did not need a watch to know that-for Silas was a vampire, and vampires were never wrong. But he _had_ been wrong before, when he assumed that Bod would not have his coming-of-age in the graveyard. he had been wrong then, and he would pay the price.

The Owenses stood with him, upset and distraught, because their son had not yet returned from the land on the living.

It was past midnight, and Bod had been known to be awake to later hours, but never had he been out this long. It was well-known that he much preferred to spend his time among the dead, rather than the living. But Bod was turning eighteen, and his Year would begin.

The Year was a tradition more or less thought up by the folk of the graveyard. It was a rather special one, that first Year, for no human had ever been given the Freedom of the Graveyard before, much less used it to its full extent of eighteen years. (The latter did not apply to Silas, for he was neither alive nor dead, and therefore the rules of neither applied to him.) This would be a time of change for all-especially Silas, who was to be the boy's only guardian in the outside world.

As if on cue, Bod walked into the graveyard, carefully making his way to the chapel where his family would surely be waiting for him-the Owenses upset and Silas a little angry. He hoped that Silas would not yell at him, for he turned eighteen at the dawning of the sun, and did not want anything to ruin his good mood.

"Hello?" Bod called into the foggy darkness of midnight-past. "Mum? Dad?" He paused. "Silas?"

"Right here, Bod." Silas' voice sounded like the inside of a grave-empty, despairing, yet completely devoid of emotion. It made Bod nervous. Silas was not usually one for showing his emotions. There was something in his voice tonight that boded ill, and that was all he knew.

When Bod reached the chapel Silas was there, tense and alert, his dark eyes darting from the Owenses to Bod and back again. He was anxious, which was odd, for Silas was never anxious in any way-or, at least, not that Bod knew. He waved Bod forward, away from the Owenses, and they walked until they reached the grave of poet Nehemiah Trot, who was listening in. Silas ignored that, and leaned closer to Bod, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Bod," he said, sighing. "Tomorrow you turn eighteen. Hopefully you know that means you'll be spending more time in the outside world."

Bod nodded slowly, unsure as to where this conversation was going.

"But they didn't tell you everything, did they?"

"What do you mean?"

"They didn't tell you about the Year."

Bod was silent, trying to remember if anyone had mentioned it. Silas had said it like an assumption, not a question, and he continued on with an explanation.

"You are almost eighteen, a legal adult. According to a…well, a 'law,' I guess you could call it, agreed on by all the dead of this graveyard, at eighteen you are to spend one year in the outside world, with no guidance from the world you have known. At the end of this Year, you are to make a decision. You will keep your interactions with humans minimal. You will rely only on yourself for guidance. And, most importantly," he said firmly, "you will _not_ fall in love."

"What's the decision?" Bod asked warily.

"That," Silas said, "I cannot tell you. But I can tell you this: rely on no one beside yourself, Nobody Owens. Trust no one."

"Why?"

Silas cringed, and Bod couldn't even tell if it had really happened or not. "Because the people you trust can betray you."

They walked together to the gate, where Silas handed Bod a small suitcase and a wallet, and then he disappeared and became part of the black night.


	2. How Nobody Left The Graveyard

_Okay, so I know it's been over a year, and I can sum up my reasons for not updating in one word: Assassin. Y'all know what I'm talking about. And for those of you who are still waiting on chapter 27, it'll be here soon. All my stories were on hiatus late December until now because I had to work through some emotional stuff. Review if you don't hate me, please._

_-Alice :P_

**Chapter One**

**How Nobody Left the Graveyard**

_"I daresay that is a question, Mistress Owens. And yet, it is not _our_ question. For this here baby is unquestionably alive, and as such is nothing to do with us, and is no part of our world."_

It was dark and it was cloudy and the moon was full, casting its dim light on the graves. There was an empty chapel, save for Silas, who was watching a shape move outside the gates from the belfry. And the shape himself, the cause of so much commotion, stood silently, shifting his weight and wondering how this misfortune could have befallen him.

Nobody Owens was, unlike most residents of the graveyard on the hill, a perfectly normal boy-at least by his standards. He could Fade and he could Dreamwalk, produce Fear and even take it all the way up to Terror. Standard skills for someone in a graveyard. But not for someone in the real world.

Bod had grown up in the graveyard, but he ventured out more often as he grew older. He had always known, though, that he had a home to go to. Now that home was gone, and he was outside the gates with a suitcase, a wallet, and a guilty conscience for having fought with Silas the night before.

Bod didn't like to fight with Silas. He felt they understood each other. They'd both been out of the graveyard. They knew of the current world. It was strange that just yesterday he wanted to spend more time in that world.

Now, barred from the graveyard, he understood why Silas had not wanted to continue the heated discussion they'd began. He must've known that less than twenty-four hours later Bod would no longer be a part of his world. At least, not for a year. Not until he made _the decision_ to stay with all his friends and family. Hopefully, that was what the decision was, at least. He had no idea what else it could be.

After standing there for several minutes Bod decided his time would be better wasted somewhere else. Somewhere that would offer him food and shelter, maybe even a place to sleep for the night. And so it was with a heavy heart and a suitcase full of money and clothes that Bod made his way away from the graveyard, the only home he'd ever known, for a Year.

_Right. I know this is short, but I didn't want to combine this chapter with the next one, and you'll see why when I post it. Hopefully that'll be soon-I'm really into this story right now._

_-Alice :P_


End file.
